This starts out at the end of Table 34.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned New Girl, but I don't.

He wasn't an idiot. He knew things weren't going to go back to normal, not for him anyway. In truth, the kiss hadn't been premeditated, but it most certainly was not an unconscious act. He doesn't know what exactly set him into motion at that moment, but that kiss had articulated everything he felt for her into 20 seconds of unquestionable clarity. And now here he sat, after a long day of denials and lies. Alone, feeling like a coward, and missing the feel of her arms around him during the world's most awkward hug.

He heard a soft knock at his door and for a second he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to pretend everything was fine for just a little while longer. Maybe even long enough for him to start believing that the kiss really hadn't meant anything. Or at least more than - looking at his clock - one hour and thirty seven minutes since the last time he'd lied about it.

The second knock wasn't louder than the first, but seemed more insistent. He hauled himself to the edge of the bed and reluctantly planted his feet on the ground. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he stood. In his head, he started, what would likely be, a never-ending mantra. 'He could do this, he could do this; for her sake he could be normal.' Turning the knob and pulling the door open, he saw the person he expected least.

"Cece, what are you doing here?" He said in a hushed voice, stepping back to let her in.

She slipped past him quickly, like she was running from the thought of turning back around. "Shut the door", she hissed; pacing about the room and wringing her hands. "Sit down, we need to talk."

He followed her instructions, partly because he could tell she was upset, but mostly because he was a little afraid of her right now. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he warily observed her indecisive wondering. When the initial shock of her being there wore off, it dawned on him. "Oh my god, are you here with Schmidt?"

"Shhhh!" She stopped abruptly and scowled at him. "This isn't about me!" she half yelled.

Sighing with her entire body, the icy glare softened into more of a thoughtful frown. "Nick, Jess has been my very best friend forever and do you know why?" Recognizing a rhetorical question when he heard one, he remained silent. "It's because selflessly, she makes me feel like a better person simply, because she wants to be my friend. She's kinder and more sincere than anyone I've ever known. She's hopeful, no matter what the circumstance and will always find a way to see good in everything. That does not mean that people like you and me don't let her down; she's just better at hiding it than most."

She sat down on the bed next to him, looking down at her hands. "I meant what I said at the convention today, about hurting the people we care about, because we act without thinking of the consequences. I've known you for a year and a half and as weird as it sounds, I consider you a friend. So, I'm going to give you a piece of advice. Take a look at your life since you met Jess. Think about how you've changed, how she's unknowingly changed you for the better. Then decide if kissing her was worth the consequences."

As her words died off she stood from the bed and walked towards the door. With a slight hesitation in his voice he asked, "Hey Cece?"

Over her shoulder she replied, "Yeah, Miller?"

"What if the consequence of kissing her, is having to live with the fact that it meant something. That it meant everything and now I don't know how to tell her? I don't even know if I should tell her."

"Well, that's the rub now, isn't it?" With that she left, soundlessly pulling the door behind her.

To be continued?